


If I Could Stop The Rain

by MariekoWest



Series: DragonBall(☆)Retro [8]
Category: Dragon Ball Z, GohanxPiccolo
Genre: Angst, Expletives, Heartbreak/Unrequited Love, M/M, Mild Domestic Violence, Non-Graphic Sex, Obsessive Suicidal/Self-Destructive Behaviour, Other, Parallel Mirai Timeline, Shounen-ai, Still faithfully HanP (GohanxPiccolo), Tragedy, TruHan (TrunksxGohan), Uke Gohan, Uke Piccolo, Uke Trunks, Undying Love, Yaoi, トランクス受け, トラ飯, ドラゴンボール, ピッコロ受け, ピッコロ大魔王ＪＲ/ピッコロさん, 孫悟飯ＪＲ, 少年愛, 悟飯受け, 未来トランクス, 飯Ｐ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-30 23:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6447193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/MariekoWest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here lies the untold strife of the last two Z-Senshis in love and loss, survival and sanity. (Mirai) Trunks establishes a relationship with (Mirai) Gohan, that is just about as dysfunctional as the latter’s obsession to follow his beloved mentor to the grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [未来編・魔師弟物語【漫画・飯P】](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/201796) by 久米夏生. 
  * Inspired by [Another Horizon](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/282528) by Tanta Green. 



> Set in a parallel reality of the Future/Mirai Timeline. Contains character death, mild doses of questionable consensual (dub-con) lemon, and dark themes. Basically one masochistic angsty trip from start to finish. My fourth GohanxPiccolo, under my “You, Me and Time” series. Please see complete warning tags (skip it if you’re open-minded & brazen enough and don’t want spoilers).
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Edit** (07/01/2016): In the process of beta-ing my existing works... Major edits done on chapter 2 (which is actually ch.1 because ch.1 here is really the prologue, bwah, anyhoo), I do apologize! m(_ _)m I am a terrible self-beta reader (I'm sure you know how challenging that can be), and I was a wreck when I wrote this, so I had to mend a lot of errors. Cheers to the lovelies who left some luff! ||v^)/♥︎

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Main headcanon theme song when I wrote this: **"I Found Love"** by Owl City.

****

_For my beloved Cream Puff.  
_

**-x-**

I can barely remember his face.

But I could never forget the happiness in yours, when you were with him.

Even when we were at war, with everything around us falling apart- your smile shone bright enough to make the world seem whole again. It was a glimmer of hope in this cruel and broken world we’ve been condemned to. I never really knew how much that smile meant to me; how much I drew on it for the strength to keep going…

Until the day _he_ died. And I never saw that smile again.

Because you had buried it with his body in that solitary grave by the cliff, along with your heart.

 **End of Prologue.** **  
**


	2. (Always) You x Him

There was a very thin and yet insurmountable line separating the world ‘before’ and ‘after’ that day. It felt like everything in my life was to be forever defined by those two completely different worlds of the one person that meant the most to me, but my mind refused to reconcile them. The ‘before’, I could never bring back; The ‘after’, was to be all I could ever have.

When the androids came into existence, everyone ceased to exist. As battles were reduced to war that further degenerated into a gratuitous holocaust that stretched for years, we all soon forgot what being alive was like. Each day we would wake up to wait for death at our doorstep. We never knew who among the remaining survivors it would call upon next, but it didn’t matter—we just knew it would come.

I understood so little back then, about the true gravity of the situation. I kept thinking that as long as you were able to smile; as long as some of us never forgot to— I could too. That I could live looking forward to a future where we would wake up to live, not to die. Despite our dwindling numbers, I wanted to believe with all my heart that we could all see this through together.

I was so _unforgivably_ naïve.

If I had known that a smile like yours surviving for so long in this terrible place in time was nothing short of a miracle, I would have worked harder to preserve it; to keep it alive. I tormented myself with that regret every single day since, as if time would pity me and turn back. But for the now, it seemed that regret was to be my only constant companion.

One by one, those _things_ , those— mechanical constructs from hell took our friends and family, until every last one of the greatest warriors of our time was gone; erased from the face of the earth, without even so much as a decent burial because there wouldn’t be enough of their bodies left to bury. And one day… I woke up and it was just the two of us that was left of them.

You lived, and survived. You were the last of the original Z-Senshi, and you outlived them all for many more years. Or at least that’s what everyone thought. My mom, Chi-chi-san, Gyuumaoh-san, Yajirobe-san, and the folks at the Kame House (who aren’t there anymore). But I came to know better. You may have survived, but I wasn’t so sure you still knew how to do the former. I still remember the last day you truly did though…

It was a seemingly nondescript afternoon in May. We were playing in the backyard greenhouse, when the explosions and screams from the city started all over again. It was routine by now; That’s what I told myself as I watched the two of you –the last of the original Z-Senshi– disappear into the horizon, flying so willingly towards what could very well be your last battle. I didn’t know why my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I don’t even remember running after you. All I remember was my mom screaming at me to come back.

You two always fought like the devil against those monsters. And as long as you two were fighting together, you were unbeatable. At least that’s what you made me believe, because you two survived significantly longer than the others. There were times I was so sure that if this accursed war didn’t last so long and the two of you weren’t so tired, victory would have been within our reach. And peace would not be such an impossible dream… But as fate would have it, the war eventually outlasted everyone, and he –your most beloved– was the last to bid you goodbye.

Just like you would always tell me in your stories, he died protecting you. He died so you could live on. I never told you, but to this day- I’m grateful for that; Grateful and greatly relieved that it wasn’t your lifeless body I saw that day (heaven knows I’ve already seen too many) and yours was the last I’d ever want to see. I know I should be ashamed for feeling that way, but I didn’t know then why I wasn’t. All I could think of was how glad I was that you were alive.

But in your stories, you never said it the way I felt it. You would always be caught in something else; neither relief nor gratitude over having been saved. I was too young to understand then…

_It's not what you wanted, wasn’t it?_

I ran like the wind that day, wishing I had wings instead of feet. (I was still too young and didn’t yet know how to fly; That— and no one had enough time to teach me.) When I reached the ill-fated battleground, the smell of sulphur, burning rubble, and blood instantly assailed my senses. But all of that numbed down when I saw you…

You were on your knees, cradling his mutilated body, holding his hand tightly to your chest; heaving and stuttering so badly as you struggled to say something to him. But then he silenced you with a smile; which you did your best to return in spite of everything. He seemed satisfied because his eyes slowly began to close. You jerkily brought your lips to his cheek then, and whispered something that washed away the smile you tried so hard to put on for him. After that, no matter how many times you called his name… his eyes remained shut. You clung even tighter to his hand and what remained of his body. You trembled so violently; the anguish on your face beyond words…

_Your tears like endless rain._

I found myself missing your smile for the very first time; That was the only thing I could think of, as I felt the whole world plunging around me. I couldn’t breathe; as though my chest had caved in (and I was sure it wasn’t because of the toxic fumes in the air). It wasn’t the first time I witnessed death and grief. But the image of you so broken impressed me so deeply; made something inside me shift and change forever. And I knew from that moment on, what I truly wanted with all my heart…

_The picture of inconsolable sadness you showed me that day._

_I never wanted to see it again._

**-x-**

You refused to let go of his body until nightfall; even as exhaustion claimed you. My mom arrived the next day to rouse you and tend to your injuries; relating to you her recent discovery of a beautiful spot beyond the woods, untainted by the androids. She knew you would want to dig his grave and ease him into his final resting place with your own hands. You clung to him the entire time, and she didn’t try to tear his body away from you. She knew better.

It was a simple burial. His death turned the Dragon Balls to stone forever. And of course, you grieved.

At first, my mom, and the few of us that remained did too. Days passed. And then weeks. Months turned into years, and we all coped somehow, as we did with all the others’ deaths. But you… you were never able to deal with him being permanently gone from this world. Somehow you just couldn’t cope. Later on you would tell me that you never really wanted to. And you were sure to prove it, because many years after his death, you still stubbornly refused to move on.

After you buried him, you disappeared for a year without so much as a word. After that, your monthly absences continued on an intermittent basis. You’d come back for only brief periods of stay, but you would never be gone for longer than several months. I sort of got used to seeing you totally at random; not knowing when you’d show up, or when you’d leave. But somehow I could tell when you did turn up- that even if you always tried your best to be all smiles and cheerful on the outside- you were still all asunder on the inside.

Four long years into the ‘after’ had me wondering how much longer you needed to be this way; and if you’d ever be back to your normal self. Mom told me that it was only natural for you to take his death so hard. Because you two were best friends since you were very young, and pretty much didn’t have anyone else but each other. I didn’t know why having my mom say that, kind of hurt. Even if I already knew it for a fact in my mind. A part of me found your undying loyalty admirable, but my prideful twelve year old self thought it was bull.

You came home into the second half of that year, and stayed for what I counted to be the longest running stopover you’ve ever decided to grace us with: four months and counting; and you (as you often did in between our sparring sessions) told me stories of ‘the good old days’ when he was still alive (which I so vapidly refer to as ‘the before’). I took a chance at lifting your spirits then by suggesting that we could revive him with the Dragon Balls of New Namek. I honestly thought it was a brilliant idea… The horror-struck look on your face caught me completely off guard. Before I knew what was happening, you were already babbling with tears all over your face. You said that would be the _worst, most dishonourable injustice_ you could ever do him. That someone like him didn’t deserve to live in this nightmarish world that we were trapped in. That you wouldn’t be able to handle watching him die all over again; how his brutal suffering had been enough. And that you could not fathom being _so selfishly cruel_ to bring him back, just because _you missed him _to death__.

At first I thought it was stupid. He wouldn’t have wanted you to feel so bad over his death _forever_. He wanted you to live and be happy; That was the very reason he gave his life in the first place. So now that you simply refused to move on or do anything about your grief, that made it even more pointless than my suggestion to bring him back. But as I’ve said, I understood too little back then. I was barely out of eight years old when you lost him. Only many, many years later would I be able to understand that you didn’t just lose a friend and mentor that day; That he was just _too much a part of you, wasn’t he?_ That you had only been that much alive and happy despite everything, because he was your strength and guiding light; The sunshine behind your smile. For you, living without him…

 _It must have been like_ _a flower trying to live without the sun._

The enemies disappeared for a while after he died. Mom believed that you managed to destroy the last of them when your Ki detonated with your rage not long after _his_ eyes closed forever. I was more than inclined to agree. You levelled everything within a six mile radius with that Ki explosion; I only barely managed to outrun the blast. It was fortunate –in a sick ironic kind of way- that there wasn’t enough of the city left standing to actually level— living or non-living. After seven years of war, the androids had already managed to deface and lay waste to our city, more than ten times over.

It would be a dark, colourless day in May some six years from then, when we would find out that we were wrong. That they managed to escape and simply decided to move to other much farther cities they haven’t yet reduced to rubble. For that time being, they must have figured that with _his_ death, they had gotten rid of the best of us and crippled our resistance for good. I wish I could say that they were wrong. After more than four years of watching you grieve, I began to wish that they would return… just to have something –anything– to distract you from your downward spiral. It was a terrible thing to think, I know… but nothing and no one else could pull you out of the black hole you had let yourself get sucked into.

The succeeding months were the hardest for me. I did everything I could to console you; to get you back on your feet again, and help you forget what you’ve lost. But you never seemed to see me. I wanted so badly to fill that void in your heart that only seemed to get deeper, and consume more and more of you with time. A part of me knew that I was only fooling myself, thinking that I could take his place; letting my childish wishful thoughts get the best of me. But still- I couldn’t help it for the world. I refused to lose hope. I wanted to believe that there was a reason I was still alive and there with you. I know now that my optimism was a defence mechanism. My necessary little chunk of insanity to keep me sane.

Not even your mother and your grandfather could bring you back to the land of the living. Ever since _he_ died you stopped going home to them. In fact, you just stopped going home at all to any of the places that you used to call home. You took to living in the mountains, out in the wilderness. Just like he did when he was still alive. And you didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with that. I was pretty sure that wasn’t doing your prevailing state of mind any good. And I was right.

One of the things that marked the ‘after’ so significantly, was how you were _slowly but surely_ becoming an entirely different person from the one I knew.

You began formally training me into the fifth month of your sojourn that year, saying that there was no telling when the androids would return. Though by the way you had said it, I got the impression that it was almost as though you _wanted_ them to return. I tried not to think of it that way, or your reasons behind it. I acted normal, even borderline sanguine, hoping to infect you with some liveliness. But if I goofed off just a little (to diffuse the tension when it got too thick) during our sessions, you would snap at me; and come at me with attacks so much harder than the previous. Again, I did my best to understand how you felt, and what hell you must be going through. I had faith in the Gohan I knew; the one who hated being mad or unkind in any way. But at the same time, I was trying to deny how with each passing day, it felt like that Gohan was fading away; And how it was starting to feel more and more like it was _him_ training me, instead of you. Each time that realization so much as tried to fight its way to my consciousness, I pushed it back down along with the tears.

The change in you became more pronounced, alienating me a little more with each new day. My estranged looks didn’t even phase your cold distant eyes anymore. Everything about you became calculated and precise; uncharacteristically rigid and even unwelcome at times.  And yet you didn’t seem to be aware of this drastic transformation within you. Or maybe you were, and I just refused to see it. I taught myself to cope with this new you, conditioned myself to accept it (though I still struggle with the latter). In so many ways…

_I’m still waiting for Gohan-san to come home._

Something I did to help myself through the transition was to make a mental list of all the differences between the ‘before’ and ‘after’ version of you. Eventually, I got to thinking that the change wasn’t as bad. Sure you’ve become a little less kind, and a whole lot less cheerful; But echoes of your old self would make itself known every now and then, and I made it a secret game to wait for it and catch it; to safely tuck it away somewhere in a vault in my mind, like sacred little treasures. It got me by most days, fuelling my hope that all wasn’t lost to you.

One of the curious things this “new you” did was disappear whenever it rained. It didn’t matter what we were doing, or where we were— as soon as the omens appeared, I’d be left staring out a murky window into the wet and ravaged world beyond, wondering where you would need to be in such a weather; worrying if you were even sheltering yourself from the elements, or trying to be swallowed by it entirely. I really didn’t know what to think anymore. It just piled right on top of all the other many things that I have yet to comprehend.

Were you losing your mind? Is this how you were trying to hang on to what was left of it? Did we really have a choice, I wondered- in anything at all. In life and death, and who we loved? Or was it all just a trick? This thing we call “choice”, to give us some false semblance of control? Was it you who first changed? Or was it actually the world around you, and you were simply forced to adapt? Was his death driving you to assume his identity? Because I swear that sometimes, it’s as though you were trying to live for the both of you; even your Ki signatures were becoming frighteningly similar. Is this internal metamorphosis what kept you in check? _That little chunk of necessary insanity to secure what sanity you had left?_

Or, maybe you weren’t changing but simply reverting. Perhaps you understood and appreciated him best of all –more than any of us ever could– because there was always a part of him in you all along. And maybe the reason you felt so free to be whoever you were before was because he was there to be whatever you couldn’t be for everyone. The ‘after’ left me by that window often, pondering those unanswered questions over and over. Because since he died, you’ve become god-awfully taciturn. 

_Just like he was._

 

The end of the monsoon that year promised more sun than rain. And I hoped the lengthier interims would be tantamount to longer time spent together training; hanging out; or just trying to soak in the fact that we were still alive. I think for once, even just for a little bit… I had gotten my wish. There were times you would forget him; forget to be sad. And we would be happy. You would remember to smile, even if your eyes didn’t smile with you. More than ever, you looked tired, and many years older than your true age. It didn’t matter though, I told myself. It was a start. The first time you laughed out loud again, my heart clenched painfully— too afraid to allow me to celebrate, thinking that it might be another one of those dreams wherein I would rejoice too soon only to wake up the very next minute. And when I realized I wasn’t dreaming, how I wished I could have stopped time right there; etching the memory into my mind, praying that we could stay like that forever.

My curiosity about your mysterious departures whenever it rained was momentarily forgotten. I never really figured out why or what you did, but something told me that if only the rain would cease long enough, you were sure to find your silver lining. Of course I couldn’t stop the rain from ever coming back, but I was hoping that when it did return, you wouldn’t need to do whatever it made you do anymore. I had a feeling I was asking the heavens too much again.

It was during a clear mid-day in October, when the skies suddenly clouded over. My heart hammered wildly in time with the cracking thunder and lighting as my mind wrapped around the dreadful reality that _it was starting to rain!_ And like clockwork, you stopped and gave me “the look”; That detached look of apology, and a silent command to not follow you when you left. As I stood there alone, pelted by the countless raindrops, wondering all over again why you had to go away just because of the rain, _it struck me_. I suddenly remembered—

_It was raining that day too._

Feelings of anger and frustration overtook me. I didn’t give a damn anymore about what you told me _not_ to do. On a hunch, I flew to the one place I knew you could be, and I was right. _But how I wished I was wrong instead… Because that thing I never wanted to see again was what I saw._

You were running your fingers reverently over his name that you yourself had carved upon his tombstone, collapsing soon after with your forehead pressed to the ground as your face contorted in anguish. Your fingers dug into the rocky earth, scraping and clawing until blood was dripping from your stubbed nails, but you didn’t even seem to notice. You lashed out at the heavens, screaming and howling with such a terrific deluge of emotions that I could not imagine how you had managed to keep that in all this time. The things you said then, struck me like a lightning bolt. I had known it all along, but I never dared acknowledge it. I couldn’t deny it now.

 _Gohan-san…_ _You wanted nothing more than to die with him that day._

I knew it wasn’t just rain running down my face too anymore. You were right there, and I wanted to hug and comfort you, but I didn’t know how to reach you anymore. Just when I thought things were starting to get better, I’m slapped with the reality that nothing has really changed. Again, I felt so stupidly naïve to think that I could help you get better; that I could be the reason you would want to keep on living. _The sunshine behind your smile_. Once again, I didn’t exist to you.

After cursing him to kingdom come, and smashing your fist into the ground (causing seismic vibrations that made what little buildings in the distance that haven’t completely collapsed fall flat), you cried and screamed yourself hoarse; curling into a foetal position on top of his resting place; tiny tremors wracking your tired body until you lost consciousness. I don’t know how I managed to keep my Ki concealed the whole time, but by then I was reduced into nothing more than a sorry snivelling mess on the muddy ground.

_Is this what you did, for the past four years since he died, EVERY single time it rained?_

I followed you secretly each time thereafter, and confirmed my worst fears. I was left to watch helplessly– often crying with you and _for you_ ; praying so hard each time that sleep would claim you sooner to ease your pain. But you never seemed to get tired of the god-forsaken ritual. _It never seemed to end_. Not as long as rain fell from the skies. I didn’t understand back then why I chose to do something so stupidly masochistic like watch you every single time. Maybe I wanted to think that I was helping you just by being there; hoping to show you that no matter what happened, I’d be there for you. Or maybe I wanted to make sure that you didn’t die, or worse— kill yourself. Because the only thing stopping you from crawling into that grave with him was piled earth.  _And I dreaded the idea with all my heart._

I didn’t know what hurt more. Watching you curse the heavens for not allowing you to die with him then; Or watching you suffer through a slow, unwanted existence as you deteriorated with time. You hardly ate anything substantial anymore. You became emaciated; but amazingly your strength didn’t dwindle. You still trained me ruthlessly. Knowing how hard it was for you to just be there, in the now… made it easier for me to accept who you’ve become a little bit more each day.

How ironic that the long overdue realization that I had fallen in love with you, crashed down on me at the very same moment I came to terms with the fact that you were dying. That was what broke my heart more than anything. Maybe because I’ve always known it. That your heart –not the one beating right now and pumping blood through your veins, but your true heart, the one that used to be responsible for the light in your winsome brown eyes (and was now also responsible for all your suffering)– had already died with him that day. Maybe that’s why I never dared acknowledge it all along; The fact that I loved you ever since I came to want to own your smiles. I was only eight years old then… I’m turning thirteen now. And yet here I am, right where I was then… Praying that the sun would break through your plastered smiles. Still hopelessly falling for you from a distance; Still watching you die a little bit more each day; And more than ever, still helpless to both. Maybe I should congratulate myself for somehow managing to make my existence more miserable than it already was.

All things considered, I guess we were both kind of suicidal and masochistic (I mean, who wouldn’t eventually be, in a world like ours?). The truth is, if I hadn’t seen you by his grave that fateful rainy day, I wouldn’t have realized how much I loved you. The more I watched how his memory threatened to destroy you entirely, the more I was convinced that I deserved you more. With the realization that I was in love with you, came the realization that I had been jealous of him all along. Angry, embittered feelings towards the cause of your pain and suffering steadily grew inside me, until it became a full-blown obsession. I reasoned that what you felt for him wasn’t love, but attachment. Because love wasn’t supposed to destroy you… It wasn’t supposed to make you want to die!

I refused to give up on you because I knew you were fighting just as hard to be happy— no, you _wanted_ to be happy! But he wasn’t letting you! I vowed to help rekindle the light in your smile, and that’s what I was going to do. Even if it took every ounce of strength I possessed till my very last breath. It was possible; I knew it was. All I had to do was distract you enough. Those tiny little moments when he slipped your mind and allowed you some meagre amount of peace and happiness, those gave me hope that time will eventually heal you and help you move on. I just had to keep recreating those little moments. That’s all.

It was quite the challenge because everything reminded you of him. And the only time you ever truly smiled was when you were talking about him. Though your eyes secretly wept, they shimmered brightly. It was so easy to see how alive he was in your heart, right alongside your wish to die with him. The rain, served but a bitter reminder of how he had cheated you of that and left you here alone, to be forced to live without him; And as long as it descended upon the earth, the sun will never shine in your heart again.

 

If the Dragon Balls still existed, I knew what I would wish for…

_I would wish for you to forget him…_

 

_And for the rain to never fall again._

 

Regardless of the irony of it, the idea did play in my mind for the longest time. I said I was willing to do anything to make you come to your senses, and I would. If it meant that I had to stop the rain from falling where you were, I would find a way to do it. I vowed to help you find the smile you lost then, and I would go to the ends of the earth to fulfil it. Even if it meant that I had to rid you of the one thing that was keeping you from finding it again. 

_Even if it meant that I had to erase Piccolo from your life._

Perhaps those thoughts and desires were an act of desperation. I had tried everything to help you and that was the only thing I haven’t tried. Perhaps it was because I thought I was old enough to carry such a burden as your heartbreak, when I was still really just a child who knew nothing. I didn’t care how long it would take.

And I _did_ keep my promise to myself in the future. For the remaining three years that we had, until the last years of my teenage life, I did devote my energies— my heart and soul to carrying it out. But before that, I knew that there was only one way by which I could begin accomplishing that goal…

 

I asked Mom to help me build a time machine. She surprised me by saying that she was one step ahead of me; that she had been trying to perfect one for years now, and believed that she was close to achieving just that. I knew we had very different reasons for wanting to travel back in time. I knew she wanted to save everyone; whereas I wanted to erase him from your life.

If you knew what I truly wanted then –the hatred and loathing I felt for him– _would you have forgiven me? Would you have understood that I only hated him as much as I loved you?_

 

The day I turned fifteen was both the happiest and most embarrassing day of my life.

For the past years, no matter how long you’d be gone, you would always show up for my birthday. But for the first time, on my fourteenth birthday, you weren't there. In fact, you had been gone for two whole years, and I was _so fucking scared_ , thinking that you had died…

The moment you walked in, I couldn’t stop my true feelings from pouring out, so afraid that you would walk out on me again and never come back. I don’t even remember half the things I said, all I know is that I begged you to stay and give me a chance to make you happy. That was the first time you gave me your full undivided attention. It was also the first time I had made a complete and utter fool of myself for anyone. You just stood there, even as I put my arms around you and kissed you. You didn’t kiss back, but it was good enough for me, because you didn’t push me away.

The period that followed was like a dream.

 

_You let me love you._

 

*We would kiss, and you would smile.

And for a while, we were happy.

 

I guess I was too caught up in my own personal cloud nine to actually see anything else beyond that. Other subtle things like… the sorrow in your eyes, or how you never said my name. All I could think of was taking advantage of this chance you were giving me— this chance to make you happy; to make you forget him! At that time, it was all so novel to me; being in love, finding happiness… I couldn’t help celebrating the fact that we were officially a couple (sort of). But just like in all my dreams, I knew I would wake up sooner or later.

Some time into the fourth week of our “relationship”, after the third time we had sex (I mean with you actually participating, because most times you would just lie there passively), I woke up relieved that you were still beside me; most times you would be gone by then. So I took that chance to watch you sleep, and I was shocked to find dried-up tear tracks on your face.

That was pretty much all it took to wake me up from that dream— what sent me crashing back down to reality. I curled into my knees in a corner and for the first time allowed my mind to come to terms with the fact that you _always_ cried when we did it; And that it wasn’t my name you would call out _every single fucking time._ No matter how hard I cried then, I could not bear fooling myself any longer. But no matter how much it hurt…

_I could never not forgive you._

Most times you weren’t in the mood and would rather cuddle or simply sleep beside me. I almost liked that as much because I hated the idea of you sleeping out there all alone, so I would never complain. I’d sleep lightly all the same, worried that you’d be gone before morning. But every time I’d wake up during the night and hear you calling his name in your sleep, sometimes laughing, sometimes apologizing; but more often than not, crying pitifully and reaching out to him, begging him to come back or take you with him… it felt like you weren’t really there with me.

I would be lying if I told you that it didn’t kill me a little each time. But the more I saw you suffer, the more I wanted to make you forget. I forced myself to be patient. I wanted to believe that it was definitely a sign that you were improving when you let me in and let me take care of you; allowed me to share your pain. I was hoping that into the fourth or fifth month of our relationship, if I worked really, really hard to please you, your recovery would progress much faster. I was too eager to drown out my fears with excessive optimism that I failed to remember one fatal obstacle…

 

We were headed for the amusement park in the neighbouring town, in an isolated place that the androids hadn’t defiled yet, when I felt your hand freeze in mine. And the next second I understood why…

_One by one, rain drops were falling from the heavens._

I tried to stop you but you were airborne and gone from view so fast, it took some minutes before I could follow; too stunned and devastated to react at once. There was no need for me to hurry. _Of course you would be _there__. You were only shocked for a moment to see me –I had forgotten that you were unaware of all the previous times I had followed and secretly watched you– before you leaned into that accursed tombstone affectionately like it was more precious to you than an actual person— _than me!!!_ I yelled at the top of my lungs, and struck you in the face when you refused to acknowledge me.

“You promised you wouldn’t do this anymore!!!” The rain masking the tears on my face.

You told me that you never agreed to that promise. You didn’t even deign to look at me as you said that; your forehead still pressed onto that cold slab of cement, unyielding. And the words you sent up to the heavens the first time I followed you here reverberated in my heart…

 

_Why…_

_Why did you have to leave me…?_

 

_I never asked you to die for me… I never wanted to be saved!_

_I’m so lonely._

 

_I don’t to want to go on living…_

_Not without you._

 

_I miss you so much!!!_

_Piccolo-san._

 

I must have lost it right there and then. Because I was only faintly aware that I said things. _Hurtful things._

I tried to overpower you, force myself on you. You pushed me away hard when I pressed my lips to yours. It was more of the vacant look in your eyes that got to me than the humiliation. Blind rage took over completely. I don’t remember how many punches I threw, all I knew was that I couldn’t stop. In the back of my mind, I vaguely registered that my fists only connected with your face each time because you were allowing it. Then I realized why.

You were shielding his tombstone… with your body.

_With your lovely face…_

Your face that was now bruised and bloody…

_Because of me._

_Anger, humiliation, desperation, and biting jealousy_ … _I couldn’t take any of it anymore!_ I felt an energy unlike anything course through my body, and as I delivered one last blow before blasting off, I knew it was strong enough to deal serious damage. And sure enough— _the sound of a tombstone breaking in half was unmistakable._ I knew it was my fault for thinking even for one second that what we had meant more to you than a fucking tombstone.

But in reality, it was my wounded pride stinging then; and my aching heart telling me that I had gone too far. When all the other caustic emotions ebbed, it was guilt’s turn to begin rearing its head. I had hurt you… I felt lower than scum.

_That was the first time I found consolation in the rain._

I never apologized for the things I said that day. For saying that I wished he never existed— that he was a demon who had somehow mind-controlled you, possessed you! That it was wrong to feel the way you did; that what you felt for him was anything but love. Because love shouldn’t be suicidal.

But then who was I kidding? The more I saw you losing your life to him, the harder I was falling for you; the more I needed for you to love me.

 

A week passed. I didn’t expect you to even want to see me again. I latched on to you, apologizing for hurting you, begging you not to leave again –and even if I swore I wouldn’t– I cried like the utter lovesick fool that I was. But I _still_ did not apologize for the things I said about _him_. You didn’t seem to be expecting it anyway. Then you shocked me by looking me in the eye and with a sincere albeit lost smile, you apologized. You told me it was your fault for not realizing that I wasn’t a kid anymore. That I was fifteen years old and mature enough to understand many things I didn’t before. Things I _needed_ to understand because we were a couple now (even if it felt like something else entirely).

We sat by the ledge of a rocky mountain overlooking the city. From where we were, the world looked so peaceful and intact. Like the androids never existed.

It’s been six years since the androids were last sighted in our part of town. Several times when the television or radio’s transmission signal permitted us to catch bits and pieces of what was happening in the news, we got dropped hints that they were possibly still wreaking havoc in some other part of the continent far away from us.

I found myself enraptured by the expression you had as we sat there. I felt a pang of envy as the breeze ruffled your soft hair. You had a faraway look in your eyes, and your lips were slightly tugged upwards. You actually looked… _happy._ And I knew only too well by now what that meant:

 _You were thinking of him_.

You told me that you didn’t just love him as a mentor and best friend, but so much more than that. That you _loved him_ , in all senses of the word; More than your own life, and even more than the whole world. And I could’ve scoffed aloud at that, as if that much wasn’t obvious _…_ if you hadn’t ended your revelation with the last thing I expected to hear…

“Piccolo-san…

"He felt the same way about me _…_ And we knew it would be tough… but we promised each other… that we would fight for every chance at happiness together, no matter how small…

"I actually even got him to—”

You paused to wipe the renegade teardrops gathering at your chin; choking on a somewhat delirious titter-sob before you were able to continue.

“… _promise to marry me someday._ ”

I fell silent. You didn’t break that silence.

I couldn’t imagine it. Were we talking of the same Piccolo? _The_ Piccolo who was only ever phlegmatic, grumpy or _grumpy-er_? The perpetually sombre, glowering, aloof Piccolo who kicked my ass to oblivion the scarce times I ever had the pleasure of being under his tutelage when I was barely eight years old…?

“Y-you mean to say… y-you did stuff like, kissed and had sex?!” I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth.

You laughed, heartily. It made me feel really stupid.

But when I saw that you were smiling- and not just your usual detached, perfunctory smile- but _that_ smile that I thought I would never see again and had missed _so much_ … I thought it was damn worth it.

“Yes… We did. _All the time._ ”

I was stupefied. “B-but I thought— I never would’ve guessed…”

You explained that it was because you both decided to keep it a secret for the sake of your mother’s sanity. Besides the fact that we were at war, and it was the worst time to be in love.

You fell silent then, and I was left to process the new information for some minutes more.

I must confess, apart from being utterly downtrodden with jealousy— the first thing on my mind was how much I longed to see what you were like when you _really_ loved someone… How you would move, how you would moan… I knew it was wrong, but my jealousy and curiosity were constantly at odds. Then again, if taken into consideration the fact that I’ve been heart-brokenly in love with you for almost seven years now, and all that time, wishing and hoping so desperately for you to love me the way you loved him— then it wasn’t so surprising at all, the way I felt… I asked the unthinkable.

“ _Can you make love to me pretending I am him?_ ”

**To be continued…**


	3. (Never) You x Me

_“Can you make love to me pretending I am him?”_

You looked at me, for a long time. I could tell you were gauging me. And yourself.

I was muscular and tall for a human, but scrawny for a fifteen year old half-Saiyajin. And certainly nowhere near as big and tall as your impressively built Namekian lover. I could tell you were already having a hard time imagining me as him; And telling if I was being serious. It was pathetic, I know. But I was also desperate.

“Please,” I said pitiably. “I want to feel the kind of love you have for him. A love I know you can never give me. Even just this once, I want to feel what it’s like to be loved by you… by the _real_ Gohan-san… not a shell of your former self…!”

I had so much difficulty finishing my sentence because my chest felt constricted. My cheeks were burned with humiliation; my vision swimming in unshed tears.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you finally say as you start to get up, sadness draping over your fine features again.

“WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO FOR YOU TO _LOVE ME?!!_ ”

You stop but don’t look back at me. My feet move before I know it, and I’m hugging you from behind. I swear to the gods I was just so sick and tired of staring at your back every time you walked away from me. No… I won’t let you do this to me anymore!

“Please…”

“Trunks, I do love you,” you said in your usual impassive tone. “That’s why I’m doing my best not to hurt you.”

“I know! You mean you can never love me that way, right? _I know that!_ But can’t you pretend this once? You _always_ call his name when we have sex anyway! There’s no possible way you can hurt me any more than you already have! What difference would it make? Would it really be that much harder for you to pretend _properly_ for once instead of _doing it halfway_?! Just allow me this _one little selfishness_ … for all the times I endured your suffering! _I beg you, Gohan-san!_ Use me, please! I _want to feel even just a fraction of the love you have for him! Please, please, ple—!”_

“Shhh.”

You finally turned and hugged me back, running your strong, gentle fingers through my hair, wiping the wet streaks on my cheek. I didn’t care anymore if I was snivelling like a five-year-old— _I felt like one!_ Even if I was a proud young adult of fifteen years now, you were still an entire foot taller than all of my four feet and eleven inches, and I cursed my father’s genes for once. I wanted to be taller and stronger than you! I wanted to protect you and be the one giving you comfort, not the other way around!

 _This horrible feeling… it was eating me up inside._ The feeling that I was losing you even before I could make you mine; Like every moment of my existence with you was on borrowed time. You were always walking away from me, as elusive as the happiness you represent. All I’ve ever done is chase you, and every time I think I’d caught up— I find all I’ve caught up to is a mirage. I couldn’t bear it any longer. This madness made me act and think in ways I know I normally wouldn’t. I blame fate for cursing us to this miserable, desperate world. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe things would have been so different between us if we were born into a world that allowed us to be happy— where you could keep your smile; A world where you weren’t dying… And a dark voice in the back of my mind added:

_A world where Piccolo didn’t exist._

 

You waited some days before finally deciding to grant my request. I guess you were preparing yourself mentally or something, from all the meditation you did before you came round. Those days you would be gone more often than train with me. You said that you’ve already taught me everything you knew, and that I was going to surpass you in strength very soon. I wanted to believe you, but it was hard to, when I could barely maintain my Super Saiyajin form. I didn’t want to think that you were just making excuses. I just stopped questioning you, or voicing my jealousy after that day.

That night was the most unforgettable night of my life. You joked that I was too thin to be him, and that it would take a lot of imagination on your part. I didn’t retort or joke back. I just did my best to look strong, and hated that my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “Don’t hold back.” I admonished in advance. You just looked at me, unblinking. _This was hurting you wasn’t it?_ But I didn’t care. I just wanted this so bad. There was a place in my broken heart that still believed that I could make you love me. Perhaps if this worked out, and you enjoyed it more than you did with him, I could finally take his place in your heart.

Thinking that didn’t help the nervousness I felt as I stripped to my jeans and sat on the bed. I felt sick enough to hurl, and disgusted at myself for being so weak. Then as you took off your own shirt and approached me, something in your eyes sparked for a moment, and just like that, the distance between us diminished completely.

 _You were kissing me roughly._ And it blew my mind.

Usually, you would just let me kiss you. You would respond every now and then, but _not_ _like this_. I knew from that moment, that I didn’t have you at all. That you were only patronizing me all this time; confirming my worst suspicions that I’ve been trying so hard to overlook…

_Gohan-san loved with a burning passion with all his heart and soul._

_And that’s not the way you loved me._

Miraculously, I managed to keep the tears in check; the sensations that were overwhelming my body temporarily quelling the hurt. I must’ve gotten carried away because you pulled back, putting a finger to my lips, reminding me that I needed to play the part. You told me ‘your Piccolo-san’ didn’t snap like that when he kissed, that he was *never aggressive or forceful; That even when he was dominant he was gentle, and he would always be the giver. My cheeks were on fire; I could feel that I was beet red to my ears. I didn’t even know I was an aggressive kisser.

I nodded mutely, and tried my best to imagine how Piccolo would kiss you. My jealous mind refused to cooperate. You kissed me again, starting off experimentally. I tried to hold back, just opening my mouth to your tongue, feeling you. I let you take the lead, and the way you kissed me… it was so— there was no other word for it— _dirty_. It made all my senses ignite. _You had this much want for him?_ So much desire, it burned me. It was so different from the kisses I knew. I could feel the want, the longing… the blinding lust, and even the pain in your kisses. Your heartbeat was pounding so loudly in my ears. I realized I’ve never heard it do that when we made love, or rather– when I made love to you. Your tongue pushing inside to my throat and filling my mouth felt so hot— so hot that I forgot to breath through my nose, and at some point I felt like I was drowning and struggling not to gag (extremely relieved that you didn’t seem to notice).

My body was coming alive in ways I didn’t know it could. An impossible scorching heat was pumping through my veins, and riling my senses so fast and so hard, that I think I completely gave up trying to act like your Piccolo at some point, and just gave in to my own desires. I found it hard to believe that we were only still just kissing. I couldn’t stop my hands for much longer, I let it roam your body, and happened to feel how hard you already were. Again, my mind was thrown off its axis from utter shock. It always took me quite awhile to even get you to attention that I didn’t think you could become _this_ aroused _this_ fast just from imagining him. My eyes began to  sting; as my pride was being severely beaten to a pulp. When you pulled back for air, I was gasping for breath so hard, forcing myself to look cool, that I nodded a bit too furiously when you asked me if I was okay.

“P-Piccolo-san… l-let you k-kiss him like that?” I panted incredulous, knowing I must’ve looked and sounded like the epitome of idiocy to you by now. Either way, I didn’t really have time to sulk about it. You only met my gaze in reply, eyes all-a-twinkle and secret smiles. I mentally shook myself out of a momentary love-sick stupor, curiosity once again rearing its head. “S-so, did he let you… I mean, was he— or you the, uhh… you know.”

“More often than not he was,” you replied too readily with a small chuckle. “Because I was the one who did all the wooing and chasing all the time.”

I swear all the jealousy in the world was worth feeling just to get to see how the all the tiny lights in your eyes came alive and danced at the thought of him.

“If being too innocent was a crime, Piccolo-san would be the worst sinner of all. Sure, loving me unselfishly came naturally to him, but when it came to physical intimacy and gratifying sexual desires– something he didn’t even know he had– he was far more unforgivably naïve than a virgin princess.”

I couldn’t help but sit there, awestruck and captivated at how articulate and talkative you would become whenever he was the topic.

“Oh, he was fantastic when he learned how to assert his sexual needs… though he was rarely ever the one to initiate contact, which is why he often ended up on the submissive end. He was incredibly sexy either way… but I especially loved the way he moaned every time I fucked him.”

I gulped, sure my blush was spilling to my neck and down to my shoulders, and everywhere else. The sudden hungry sultriness in your voice as you said that shot violent shivers down my spine. I wondered vaguely in the back of my mind if I was sexy— how I could be if I wasn’t; Or what the heck for you was sexy anyway? Because if it was green skin, pointy-ears and antennae… then there goes my chances of impressing you in that aspect.

“D-did you let him… err… I mean did he even have a— uhh…” _Okay Trunks, you’re rambling._ I bit my lip to stop from losing whatever shred of dignity I hopefully still had left in your eyes.

You laughed. A real laugh. “He had everything we needed, yes… _and more._ ”

Again, a huge dry lump was forming in my throat. I clumsily swallowed it, refraining from asking what that meant, and having difficulty imagining how Piccolo would even fit in you considering how huge he was even if he was only a teenager back then (purely theoretically speaking of course, since I’ve never seen _it_ — only inferring as much, based on how you seem to be more than satisfied reminiscing about his sexual capabilities.)

“So, are you ready?”

“Damnit, Gohan-san! Stop treating me like a kid!” I snapped, hating my voice for cracking.

It was the first time I had to be bottom and I expected it to hurt. But the actual pain managed to greatly exceed those expectations. Still— it was worth it to see that side of you. Everything about who you were then was a whole new dimension. The way you looked, the way you moved, and the way you felt; How his name possessed you, and pervaded your lips like a mantra with every pleasure-soaked breath… You were to me, the most beautiful dream I could never have. My mind reeled from the sheer pleasure of it, and simmered in boiling jealousy all at once. When it was over, you only stayed beside me long enough to gather your bearings, before you sat up.

“You were holding back.” I accused, albeit shakily (for lack of a better thing to say).

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… this was a mistake.” was all you said without looking at me, before you got up and walked out. And despite your words, I knew you were doing your best not to fall apart. Now that I wasn’t so immersed in my own chaotic feelings, the reality of it hit me full force. You were crying the whole time.

 

_I love you… I love you so much._

 

_Why did you have to leave me,_

 

_Piccolo-san…_

 

Your hushed supplications still echoed loudly in my mind, bringing unbidden tears to my eyes. One, two, at first— and then countless drops became a torrent… mimicking the rain that had began to fall outside.

 

**-x-**

 

It was his birthday the next day. So much has happened that I had completely lost track (partly because I had never consciously kept track of that particular day of the year to begin with).

You were, of course— nowhere to be found. I knew you were at his grave by the cliff, and I let you be. I couldn’t deprive you of any more time with him. But by sundown, I found myself missing you terribly. I was careful to keep my Ki in check to remain undetected as I crept up to watch you from a safe distance.

You were beside his resting place, meditating. You used to tell me that it was the hardest thing in the world for you. But since he died it’s all you ever do. I thanked the heavens that you didn’t seem to be crying or losing your head.

I had to go home eventually to run errands for Mom, but I really hoped you would drop by later during the day. When you didn’t, I snuck out at nightfall to find you still there, fast asleep. There was a fresh bouquet of tulips arranged by his broken gravestone, a canteen of water, and a basket of fresh red apples. I swear my heart felt like it actually physically broke in two, although I couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or jealousy; or both. I didn’t want to leave you, but I couldn’t bear staying. My Ki was beginning to waver with my emotions, so I left.

 

Over a week later, my body was still unbelievable sore from that night, so I didn’t really ask anything of you; eager to get better as soon as possible. I couldn’t imagine how much worse I would have been if you hadn’t held back, and again I despised myself for my weakness. It was mortifying, but I had to admit that your Piccolo was damn strong for someone who wasn’t Saiyajin if he was bottom more often than not, and able to take you _‘all the time’_.

Trying my best not to be swallowed by my destructive thoughts all over again, I focus instead on preparing something special for your special day, which was two days away. The only reason his birthday held any significance to me was because your birthdays were on the same month and less than two weeks apart. I wanted you to have something I made myself; an improved communicator device. Your old one was destroyed in your last battle and you haven’t really asked for a new one since.

I was so engrossed in tweaking it and making last minute adjustments to my gift that I didn’t think much of the faint booming sound in the distance the next morning, passing it off as gravity claiming another one of the decrepit buildings left in the androids’ wake; which happened often enough. By the time I sought you out that afternoon, excited to give you your present a day in advance, it was already too late. My mom met me as I was rushing out. It took me several seconds to process the look of pure terror in her eyes. And without another word, I flew off to the thick smoke and carnage in the far distance.

When I got there, I completely forgot about the present I was carrying and even accidentally crushed it beneath my feet as I broke into a run to find you. I don’t remember much of what followed. All I knew was _I had never been so afraid of anything in all my life._ There was blood everywhere, and I tried not to think of who it belonged to. I called your name until my throat burned; in such a panic that I couldn’t even temper my flaring Ki enough to zero in on yours, which I didn’t want to believe was hardly registering anymore.

After what seemed like hours of futile searching, I found my feet on the forest path leading to the sacred cliff that housed his grave. I was half-blind with dread, forcing my desensitized mind to think that the ominous trail of blood I was following wasn’t real. And to my horror… there you were, curled into yourself as small as possible against his broken tombstone. You were shivering from the severity of your injuries; half of your face was soaked in blood; and a jagged bleeding stump was all that remained of your left arm.

I felt my knees giving, but I forced my feet to press forward, staggering and tripping over my own limbs as I struggled to get to you. I tried to give you a last _senzu bean_ I secretly stashed away hoping I’d never have to use it but glad I’d hung on to it all the same. I tried to slip it into your mouth but you refused, saying you didn’t need it anymore because _it was time for you to go home._

If it wasn’t for all the blood you looked like you had simply fallen asleep, with such a peaceful smile on your face; lying contentedly atop your one true beloved’s resting place. Maybe that’s how I wanted to remember it happened; I kept telling myself it was just a bad dream and we would both wake up soon…

And perfectly on cue –as if the heavens were mocking me– the skies clouded over and raindrops began to pelt the earth. I couldn’t hear or see anything anymore… _I couldn’t feel anything anymore._ That smile I missed so much, and wanted to see all my life… I finally found it here, as you left me.

It was then that I was made to understand what it felt like to be robbed of that one thing you held most precious of all; What it was like to lose everything, and die on the inside, and suddenly feel like existence was a curse…

 

**-x-**

 

_Sitting with him as he meditated… those were the happiest moments of my life._

_It’s funny how we only realize how important those quiet peaceful moments are when they’re gone for good… If I could bring back time, I would choose to live there with him forever…_

_I know it hurt for him to leave me as much as it hurt for me to watch him die and have to go on living without him… I let him down, you know… I couldn’t do what he asked of me… He wanted me to find happiness and go on living to old age. I tried… but it’s so hard. Life just refused to make sense anymore… without him._

**_ごめんね、ピッコロさん。ただ、ずっとピッコロさんと一緒にいたい (Gomen ne, Piccolo-san. Tada, zutto Piccolo-san to isshoni itai)。_  
** _(I'm sorry, Piccolo-san. I just want to stay with you forever.)_

 

**-x-**

 

I must’ve screamed because the last thing I remembered was the birds taking flight and the ground shaking, but everything was a blur after that. For some reason I saw you that day seven years ago all over again…

You cradling Piccolo’s dead body as you whispered your final endearments to him; Your face stricken with unfathomable sorrow as he expired in your arms; And ultimately your rage taking over, and with it— your Ki exploding and obliterating everything in its path. Maybe I shouldn't have avoided that blast.

I came to my senses feeling emptier than ever, the tears doing nothing to ease the dead weight that had settled in my chest. I had finally ascended to Super Saiyajin, but as I stood there basking in its intense power, I couldn’t find it in me to celebrate. I couldn’t even remember anymore what it was that I wanted to fight for so badly. _Nothing made sense anymore…_

_Now that I had lost you._

After seven long years, you were finally able to fulfil your wish to be with him again. Finally you two were reunited, somewhere… wherever heaven may be. I didn’t have to wonder if you were happy and finally smiling that smile that I loved so much…

Because I knew that you were.

_Goodbye, Gohan-san…_

 

**-x-**

 

The two years after that felt like an eternity. Everyday I would visit your grave, which I made sure was next to his. I even repaired his tombstone and planted some tulips around both your resting places knowing how much you both loved them (especially the reddish-orange and purple ones). They were all already in full bloom now, it was beautiful. I could almost feel the happiness radiating from your twin graves. To this day, I still don’t know how to be able to empathize with it even if I really wanted to.

I came home one day to find that my mom had finished the time machine. She declared that it was almost ready to use. In a month’s time, after its final charging phase, I would be all set to go. Two years or a month- it made no difference to me anymore. Time was only time to me now. It had nothing I was still interested in.

That day came and there I was, the night before I was to embark on my very first time travelling mission. She carefully instructed me. And I listened. But I no longer understood why I was doing it. Fixing the past did not guarantee it would change our present (she made sure to clarify that). So basically, I was doing it more for some other random parallel reality along the merry continuum of space and time, and not our own.

At seventeen, I was as broken as you had been. I remember every detail of how you struggled from that turning point in your life, until your very last breath, and I already knew what my fate would be. You had the gall to tell me to be happy before you died, and I couldn’t help but feel irritated by the sheer hypocrisy of your words. I told you I loved you, even if I knew you wouldn’t say you loved me back— not in the way I always wanted. And you didn’t fail to meet my expectations –or lack thereof. All traces of hope or optimism in my soul had already deserted me since.

I had no reason to care anymore. I couldn’t change my life. I couldn’t save you. And I wasn’t exactly feeling altruistic enough at this point in my life to want to inadvertently save the world of some other reality. Suddenly my mom mentioned his name, and it was potent enough to snap me out of my long train of disparaging thoughts. She was saying that if Son Goku didn’t seem to understand— “You can always count on Piccolo, he’s the sharpest and most level-headed Z-Senshi of all. Go to him.”

 

**_Go to him._ **

 

I wonder if my mom would have said that if she knew…

Again my curiosity got the best of me. “Piccolo, huh…” I repeated quietly, my heart filling with silent scorn.

“Hm?” Mom turned to me. “Yes, you do remember him, don’t you? Anyway, you can’t miss him. He’s a seven foot, green-skinned Nam—”

“ ** _I know._** _Who he is._ ” I testily grated out through clenched teeth; The surprise I garnered on her face undisguised. “ _Gohan-san’s_ **_lover._** ”

And I don’t know which annoyed me more; the fact that my mom only took a few seconds to recover from her stupefaction; or that she didn’t even seem that surprised at all.

“Oh. He told you, huh?” was all she had to say.

“Yeah.” I spat. Bitterness seeping into my chest like frost. “You knew all along?”

“Hm, well. Honestly… it’s something very difficult to miss. They were… _close_.”

 _‘Close’?_ I couldn’t help but scoff out loud at my mom’s lame attempt at discretion. Understatement of my entire screwed-up life! Try: ‘They-Snogged-And-Fucked-All-The-Time’ kind of close. I balled my hands into fists, making sure to dig my nails into my palms painfully in an effort to keep my emotions in check.

“But no, I didn’t know that they were lovers. I just sort of— sensed it.” my mom finished. “Still. Whatever happens, he’s the most dependable of all. You can go to him.”

And that was that. My mom knew better than to entertain a jealous tantrum. I made no further issue of the topic.

 

**-x-**

 

I was willing to give it a chance, and so I followed my mom’s instructions to a tee. Things didn’t turn out exactly as we had hoped, but we had managed to destroy the threat of the androids. Unfortunately, the person we were trying to save still died sacrificing his life in the end. My future remained unchanged. While other futures suffered negative repercussions like the release of Bojack and his minions (and who knows what else).

When I returned to my time, I was dispirited and even more tired than ever. I had done what was asked of me; I decided that it was okay to be selfish now. I’ve seen the Piccolo of the past. And the you of that time didn’t fall short of my expectations when it came to your feelings for him, even at such a young age. I had so many questions that needed answers… _Were you always going to be in love with him? Were the two of you going to live happily ever after if the war never happened and he hadn’t died? Or were you going to outgrow your feelings for him and eventually move on to someone else? Was there even a remote possibility of that someone else being me?_

While waiting for the time machine to be completely recharged and refuelled, I studied the possibility of finding a timeline where he didn’t exist; or one where you weren’t in love with him. If there were none, I would go back farther into the past and see if I could remove him from your path. It was the only way I could think of to save you. Or it was the only thing I allowed myself to think, just to have a perfect excuse to rid you of him.

Turns out, I had overestimated my desire for revenge, and sadly debased my love for you in the process. But it would take many more frustrating years before I could come to terms with those realizations.

Every parallel reality I managed to find had the two of you together, and you were very happy. So happy in fact, that I couldn’t bring myself to do anything to break you two apart. There was no bewitchment or hypnotism. There was only the " _self-sacrificing_ , _ever so honourable_  Piccolo-san”. The more he proved that your feelings for him were actually true, even justifiable and perfectly rational— the more my hatred for him grew; And I knew that I was only proving myself all the more unworthy of you. I was sinking deeper into this bottomless chasm I had created in my heart, and I didn’t know how to get out.

After three years worth of time travelling, I was beginning to lose hope- when I finally managed to find a timeline where you and Piccolo didn’t end up together. It was one in a hundred, but I congratulated myself for succeeding in locating it in the tangle of alternate realities. I was beyond myself with excitement to see you. But as fate would have it— that long-awaited encounter was not to be as gratifying as I always fantasized it would be.

_I barely recognized you._

You were very much alive, but looked old beyond your time. And your eyes were missing something: _its distinct gleam_. You had a pretty wife and daughter, and you seemed happy; as far as any casual observer was concerned. But _I knew_ what Son Gohan was _really_ like when he was _truly happy_ _and in love._ This person who had your name and face was just going through the motions. The affection and smiles he imparted to his wife and child— a mere shadow of the kind of love I’ve seen the Son Gohan I know could give.

I retreated to my ship, having seen enough and far too much. Again, I felt that he had cheated me- somehow managing to conspire with fate against me. So unprepared for what I had discovered that I couldn’t even cry to ease the shock and frustration that was welling up in my chest. I had fallen asleep for the rest of the afternoon until evening in that timeline, wallowing in my wrecked emotions and the nightmares it brought with it. When I woke up, I felt a strange calm had taken over. I even felt well-rested and oddly satisfied, like how one would probably feel when they’ve reached their wit’s end in a long and arduous journey only to realize that they’ve already made it to the very end; and there was nothing waiting there except the sense of coming full circle.

If there was one thing I least expected to learn, it’s how this seemingly innocuous and peaceful reality was far more terrifying than all the nightmares I’ve ever lived through; how the Gohan of this time ended up far worse than the tormented Gohan of my time. This Son Gohan was broken, without even knowing it. And I just couldn’t decide how to feel about that. But I could feel something— something else gripping my heart… the beginnings of a new purpose… And I think, miraculously… in the most unlikely of times and places…

_I rediscovered hope._

 

**-x-**

 

Being a stubborn and immature fool was something I had never been proud of. But after everything I’ve seen, I think time itself has changed me, and taught me a valuable lesson on love; I would be a fool to keep denying it. Without _him_ , you just wouldn’t be _you_. I owe everything that you are to him. If not for him, I probably never even would have fallen in love with you in the first place. And it was exhilarating somehow, to finally accept that, and understand that there were some things that were simply meant to be.

I hadn’t allowed myself to cry in a long time. But it was raining the day I got back from that grim timeline –that one in a hundred where the two of you went awry– and the tears finally came. Only this time, they were tears of relief. Relief that I wasn’t born into that reality; Relief that I’ve been set free from my anger and bitterness; Relief that I would lose you to someone who took care of you best, far more than I ever could; to someone who wouldn’t think twice to die for you, countless times over. But most of all— relief because through this long-drawn crucible, I managed to reaffirm what I truly wanted… And it’s still the same thing it was that day when I saw your world shatter…

_I never want to see you that sad and heartbroken **ever** again._

I understand now.

The only way to ensure that, would be to keep the sun shining.

I swore I would do everything in my power to fulfil your wish to be with him forever… To protect your happiness; To protect the sunshine behind your smile.

I may not be able to stop the rain…

But I can stop time.

 

**-x-**

 

*Bloomer Briefs, co–inventor of the revolutionary Hoi-Poi Capsule, and sole inventor of the very first operational time machine; unquestionably two of the greatest scientific achievements of all time in the fields of Quantum Physics and Applied Dynamics– had developed a theory about the true nature of time and the implications of navigating it, which she called the “Theory of Living Time”.

Contrary to what we have always been made to believe, this puts forward the possibility that “time” –very much like a tree– is an outcropping of life-potent energy in space that originated from an infinite (and yet possibly exhaustible) source, that is– to a certain degree, highly sentient and self-sustaining; and possibly even possessing a unique science of its own. And within this “living time”, is the existence of not just one reality— but several. The primary reality or constant “root” timeline; and the parallel realities or “echoes”, that stemmed from that root. Each “echo” is an offshoot by-product of junction points within these timelines. These junctions are temporal and spatial energy imprints of the most crucial events or happenings wherein key individuals execute choices that literally create “turning points” or “forks in the road” of time.

While offshoot realities are repercussions of all consequentially diverse possibilities within these junctions (with the more erroneous –and more destructive- offshoots far more expedited and sooner extinguished); the constant root timeline is the one which proves to be the most “correct”, successful, or well-balanced; thus the one that will have the most stable and constant energy; sustaining its existence longest of all in the overall time-space continuum. These offshoots –though merely results of “trial and error” events within time– are essential to the root timeline’s survival.

My mom hasn’t been able to determine if this primary or root timeline can die off like its erroneous counterparts, but well… I think we can all safely agree that we wouldn’t want to be around if- and when that happens.

    

After everything that I’ve seen, I can say without a doubt that my world is an “offshoot reality”, because clearly everything went wrong, and it won’t be long before our timeline “extinguishes itself”. Therefore, using her theory, I had formulated my own; That given the capacity to jump between these offshoots, junctions, and time streams –by the natural design of whatever greater force engineered this concept of a hyper-sentient and self-sustaining flow of time– any beneficial or positive outcome in the whole scheme of things would always only manifest in the constant root timeline. Given this, if one can find a way to locate this specific time stream and stay there to help reinforce it, one might be able to trigger an evolution of time and reality itself, thus lessening the occurrence of erroneous offshoots, and instead redirecting the stray energy back into the main stream to further power it. I believe this is why my mom was able to invent the time machine.

 

**-x-**

 

I continued my secret time travels, based on a set of very specific theorems and formulae, in my quest to find this fabled “root timeline”, and it proved to be even more challenging than my previous quest.

When I was searching for timelines where you and him didn’t end up together, I figured I simply had to calibrate my machine to zero in on timelines where both your Ki signatures didn’t resonate as one, or were farthest apart. My mom used the same method to send me back to the outermost active junction before Son Goku’s Ki disappears from Earth. It was through that first undertaking that we learned that modifying any past event within an offshoot timeline only creates auxiliary offshoots; one of which may reinforce the main timeline later on (an extremely rare occurrence); but ultimately had no effect on its already established future. This meant that travelling back to the original junction in the root timeline is fundamental for instigating any real change. We felt that this discovery was the biggest, most defining feature of her theory compared to all its predecessors.

Since my mom’s theory employs homing in on life-force energy signatures instead of calendrical measurements and clocked time stamps- knowing the exact energy reading of your destination is vital. And since I was trying to find a particular time stream instead of a person this time, that only meant that that there was no guarantee that I would be able to find the root timeline using the same method. Strong Ki didn’t necessarily equate to prosperity and happiness (assuming that the root timeline was the most peaceful). If anything, I guessed that I needed to find the most generally stable and harmonious aggregation of Ki signatures. This made it trickier, since the sounder a Ki signature was, the subtler its register, and the harder it was going to be to detect and isolate across the spatial energy field. Furthermore, I didn’t have time to scour every timeline I suspected it to be, because the machine required so much power; and where I came from –the messed-up offshoot future– both our time and energy resources were dwindling rapidly. I needed to narrow down my margin of error to at least zero point zero one, in order to manage what limited resources we had left. You may be wondering why simply restocking fuel and energy in the other timelines I visited wasn’t an option? Well, time jumpers like me weren’t allowed to interfere or interact with beings or key individuals in realities they visited (this was the sacred rule of time travel), at least not until I was sure that I had found the reality I was aiming for which contained whatever event it was that I needed or wanted to alter with my presence. So as much as energy was abundant in a lot of the timelines I've been to, I couldn’t charge or fuel my ship whenever I needed to. I had to be as prudent as possible about my decisions every time. But I persevered with the fire of my new vow fuelling me.

At this point, I would have been equivalent to twenty-one years old in Earth cycles; But each time, I made sure to program my machine to automatically return to my take-off point after a timed period, so in a sense, I was literally slowing down time. Of course, I didn’t expect my mom to be in the dark about it forever…

 

“Trunks-kun,” she confronted me one day, surprisingly calmer than I had predicted, as I was tweaking with some gadgets I had invented. “I did some maintenance on the time machine, and guess what? The chronometer readout shows that you’ve used it no less than a hundred times in a span of over four years. Let me get a cup of coffee and settle down comfortably, because I have a feeling you will be doing some veeery long explaining.”

After filling my mom in on my secret exploits and confessing my plans (leaving out the unsavoury parts about my former desire to sever your ties with _your gallant Piccolo_ ), she was very accommodating; even supportive enough to help in checking my calculations and installing a more accurate and powerful Ki scanner. Specific Ki signatures were reprogrammed into it, like yours, and his; and all the other Z-Senshi. She was also forced to make the time machine three seats bigger, as our world was becoming smaller, and more and more “non-existent”. She would often accompany me, and help in studying the Ki patterns and effects our travails had on the time-space continuum in general. We needed to make sure that we weren’t causing more unnecessary offshoots, but instead, ensuring synchronisation with the root timeline (that we had yet to find).

At first we thought we could locate our targeted time stream by longevity; since the root timeline was supposed to be the one with the longest existence. We worked around that idea for awhile, only to end up in the most erroneous offshoots. This is how we discovered that offshoot realities moved faster and died sooner. We were forced to scrap that method, because the main stream was the one that was constantly being shaped, and therefore, moved at a generally unpredictable or slower rate. So it was back to the drawing boards for us, trying to zero in on collective Ki registers. But a year of searching, relying on general Ki patterns was proving to be too tedious and arbitrary. We had to narrow our search even more to as specific factors as possible. _And then it hit me._

“Hey, Mom… Gohan-san is the most powerful being in the galaxy even when he was only eleven, right? Perhaps we can use Gohan-san’s Ki alone, and zero in on where it’s most stable.”

My mom looked pensive for some moments. Then she gave me a proud look that made me feel like what I said had just won me the Nobel prize. “You know what, Trunks-kun? That may actually be the answer we’re looking for.”

 

**-x-**

 

This is it.

You always told me that I should follow my heart. And we were about to find out if following my heart would lead me to where I most needed to be: with the Gohan-san of the primary root timeline. I was hoping against hope that he was the same perfectly happy, sunshine smiling Gohan-san that I had fallen head over heels in love with; not some empty husk masquerading as you.

After studying your residual Ki patterns in the most constant time streams we could find for a total of six years worth in Earth cycles, we finally managed to home in on one where your life force energy signature consistently peaked above all and yet remained stable and un-chipped; Which coincidently was the same timeline where Piccolo’s life force was strongest and most stable too, and resonating harmoniously with yours. We were a good ninety-nine point nine per cent confident that we’ve found the main timeline.

And so, here I am now. In what promised to be my most important journey. The one that will not only allow me to redeem myself, but also possibly ensure that you –and hopefully no one else- will have to suffer the kind of hellish future we did.

After calibrating the time machine to arrive at our target destination, my mom wished me good luck with happy tears in her eyes. I gave her a thumbs up, before waving farewell, and then—

I pressed the button.

**The End. Not.**

**Epilogue Ahead.**


	4. Epilogue: Love

Before when I felt like it, I would return to that time more than twenty years ago just to see your younger (still happy) self. It was my guilty pleasure, and… I figured— a sort of small consolation of fate. Time jumpers can’t always return to the same events in the past because the junctions required to enter and exit that timeline would burn off and die eventually. But for some reason, the junction there didn’t completely seal off right away and even remained open for many years after you died in my time…

When I visited for the last time before I was to embark on that fateful time jump to find the root timeline (the one I didn’t know was to be my longest, most indefinite and evidently terminal time travel), I finally understood why.

 

**-x-**

 

“Gohan-san,”

The eleven year old you of the past that chose to don Piccolo’s colours, despite the fact that it had been your father who had trained you in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber for a span of time equivalent to one Earth year, looked up at me expectantly.

“You really like Piccolo-san a lot, huh…”

In all of my previous revisitings I usually said nothing; content at bearing witness to your hushed elation at being fully engulfed in Piccolo’s complete and imposing ensemble for the very first time- weighted mantle and all. But I found myself desperately wanting to hear what you were thinking then (even if I already had a fairly good clue what it was)- I don’t know… I think perhaps as a sort of affirmation, or closure. Or perhaps I was just soaking with extra sentimentality after everything and what was upcoming…

“Uhh… yeah.” A soft and shy chuckle slipped past those lips, as you got lost in your blissful little nothings for some moments before you looked up at me with your shimmery deep brown eyes and a big bright –somewhat guilty– smile on your face. Then those eyes grew slightly wide and clouded with some secret concern (of which was no secret to me anymore).

“Uhh, Trunks-san… y-you’re from the future, right?”

I nodded. My heart never failed to beat faster whenever your younger self looked at me like that, no matter how many times I’ve relived it. It must be the uncharacteristic anxiety on your face. It was adorable.

You look around cautiously, making sure that our dads were preoccupied with discussing *Dr.Raichi’s whereabouts; Then making especially sure that Piccolo was not within his uncannily extended earshot, and upon finding that he had conveniently flown off somewhere unseen, you continued (but kept your voice down in an almost inaudible undertone). (It tickled, you were leaning in quite close to my ear.)

“W-what are… erm… Piccolo-san and me like in the future? Are we— are we still… err— best friends?”

I wasn’t expecting that. But I guess I should have been. I would often forget how truly frightening your acuity of mind was, behind that disarming childlike façade. My surprise must have been so plain on my face because you snapped out of your giddy little bubble, jerking away from me and furiously shaking your head while waving up your arms in defence.

“Ahh! F-forget it! That was a stupid question! I- I don’t think it’s proper to be asking too much about the future anyway!”

I couldn’t stop a mildly delirious laugh. These precious little nuances of yours were the reason I couldn’t stop exploiting this junction and reliving these trysts with you. I never got tired of seeing you in this period of your life… so alive and without a care in the world— _in this peaceful intermission before the storm commenced_. I was even desperate enough to bear the jealousy that came with it. I never knew it was possible to be extremely happy and extremely sad at the same time until _you_ happened to me. Thankfully, the pain wasn’t as bad as it used to be…

“I don’t think there’s anything stupid about it.” This made you stop and listen— hopeful even, as you held your breath. “Although personally I think it isn’t the future that matters or even the past, but _the now_. We can make both the past and the future whatever we want, if we don’t take ‘the now’ for granted.”

You blinked up at me, mystified. I guess that’s not something you expected to hear from a time traveller, huh? I smiled at this younger version of you and playfully nudged your forehead with my index finger. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Waahh!!!” In your shock, you actually disappeared from view, tumbling right off the bench we were both seated in. You were back on your feet before I could offer assistance, and I laughed –a real laugh. (It felt nice.) I guess at this age you already knew what romantic love was, judging by the furious tell-tale blush on your cheeks.

“But to answer your question…” I said as I helped you settle back into the bench seeing that you were still somewhat unsteady on your toes. “Yeah, you two are tight.”

That elicited a sigh from you. I take it was one of relief, though you were still visibly quite flustered. “* _Yokatta…_ ”

“But my future isn’t the same as yours. Your future is yet to happen.”

“Ahh…”

At that moment, Piccolo landed in the distance, apparently with some news which he relayed to Vegeta and Goku. And just like that, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. (I did my best to stifle a rising tide of jealousy.)

“You should follow your heart, Gohan-san.”

You looked up at me, the randomness of my words catching you off-guard.

“It’s what Gohan-san would do in times of doubt. At least, that’s what _you_ used to always tell me. I mean, the you from my time.”

The idea amused you for some minutes as you stole another glance at him before ducking your sights to the ground beneath your feet, looking crestfallen all of a sudden.

“Wouldn’t that seem kind of selfish?”

“In what way?”

“My mother wants me to be a scholar someday… To lead a normal life with a normal family… If I go against her wishes, she’d hate me forever. Don’t you think it’s wrong…? This thing I feel?”

I couldn’t speak for a long time. It seemed that fate was once again, testing my resolve. After all the hardship I’ve gone though to try to get you away from him, here you were, asking me for advice on whether you should allow yourself to fall in love with him or not. It's true, you were one of the smartest people I've ever known _…_ But here, no matter how intelligent you were beyond your time, you were still just a child after all. A child that was caught up in unfamiliar emotions, and very much confused sometimes _…_ just as I was. Maybe if we had this conversation the first time I revisited you, I would have said the opposite of what I wanted to say now. And even if I doubted very much that anything I said could deter you from doing what you wanted, I’m still glad I never got the chance to test if I was wrong.

I took a deep long breath before finally speaking. “Let’s just say that I used to think the same thing. There was someone I really loved. But I thought everything else was more important than those feelings- than that person… When I realized my mistake, it was already too late.”

You looked shocked, stunned speechless for some moments. I could tell that you dreaded the idea of that happening to you with all your heart.

“ _Follow my heart…_ ” you murmured. Then you stood up, a big radiant smile on your face, wetness glistening at the corner of your eyes. My heart literally stopped beating when you suddenly wrapped your arms around me in an affectionate hug. “Arigatou, Trunks-san!”

And somehow… I knew I finally did something right for once. Because even if I kind of literally gave you away with what I’ve done, I also feel that I’ve been liberated of a burden that’s laden my heart for so long. I knew… that I’d finally been forgiven.

Watching your back as you started to walk towards him and away from me, my heart clenched that familiar painful clench. But then you stopped and turned back. You contemplated for some moments before speaking, taking extra care to not be too invasive.

“This person you love… Is it someone I know?”

I chuckled. “You could say that.”

It was easy to guess that you were enumerating everyone we mutually knew in your mind; too well-mannered to ask me who it was upfront.

If I could, I would just stay here and watch you like this forever. But I knew that my time here was up, and reluctantly I stood up to bid your farewell for the last time.

Tipping your chin up, I tenderly kissed you on the cheek before whispering what was to be my final words to the you of this time…

“Don’t worry. It’s not Piccolo-san.”

 

**-x-**

 

I think I finally know what true love is…

It’s fighting to ensure someone else’s happiness and safety, before you can even remember to worry about your own; It’s that silent oath to live for another, and protect what they hold dear- absolutely and unconditionally.

Now I see why you and him worked so well together. You looked out for each other. He is, and always has been that one person you held dearest in your heart; The first who truly trusted your strength, and guided you in wielding it. And you— you were the only one who had ever resided in his once frozen and desolate heart; warming it with your love and acceptance, and happily making it your home. What you felt for one another never depended on whether the other loved you back. You just did. Without terms or expectations. I was a fool to want to destroy that. But now I know better. I have always believed that there was a perfectly good reason I was the one left to witness all of this strife. It’s to set things right, _and I will_.

I won’t waste any more time.

As soon as I got back to my time that day, the junction in the past which allowed me to visit your eleven year old self finally disappeared…

Forever.

**End of Epilogue.**

**Bonus Chapter Teaser Ahead…**


	5. Bonus Chapter

**Special Preview** of the next episode in the **“You, Me & Time”** series…

* * *

The moment I unlocked the hatch of my ship, I was seized and extracted by tall burly cloaked figures. I could tell by their grip that they were very strong. Even if they suppressed their Ki, it was still immensely powerful. They ignored my protests and wordlessly forced me to trudge along a series of long and winding, spacious high-ceilinged corridors, that opened up into an even more expansive area that appeared to be a throne room. There were three more cloaked figures seated there; The slighter cloaked figure in the centre on a ruby red royal chair; and the other two cloaked figures on council chairs on either side. I was made to genuflect before the one in the centre whom they addressed as their empress, before they were signalled to step away.

"You are from Earth." came a soft albeit clear voice. It was the one they called their empress who had spoken.

"Yes… your grace." I didn't originally plan on being deferential, but something about her voice and Ki register compelled me to be.

They conferred in a language I didn't recognize. I grew impatient; I couldn't waste time here if this was the wrong timeline. I tried to sense Gohan-san's Ki but was bombarded by countless immensely powerful Ki waves from all directions.

"Your name is Trunks Vegeta, and you are a half-breed, is that correct?"

Shocked, I looked up at her from where I was prostrated, and nearly jumped when I realized that the ethereal ivory-smooth face she had wasn’t real! After some moments of scrutiny, I realized it was in fact a very realistic and superbly crafted mask. Her two councils wore similar masks, all of which had perfectly neutral expressions.

Who were these people? Were they even people? What is this strange place that wasn’t Earth that I managed to end up in? And how in blazes did they know who I was? Did I fall asleep without knowing it, and somehow end up dreaming this strange dream?

The empress paused after a breath, before proceeding in her well-practiced peremptory monotone, "You are on the guest list. Your name appeared just seconds ago, Trunks-sama. I apologize for the hostile manner you were received by the palace sentries. Your ship appeared out of nowhere in the central atrium of our palace, and landed without authorization. This led us to think that you were an intruder. I trust you understand our cause for alarm."

If I thought I hadn’t been confused enough a few minutes ago, I was now. I could only afford to acknowledge her words with a dumb nod.

"I am The Empress of Asteroid E2- otherwise known as HFVEN, and I welcome you, esteemed guest, Trunks Briefs Vegeta-sama."

Ooookay. At least she was gracious enough to allow me some moments to let the information sink in. Empress? Asteroid E2…? So, I was in a different planet…? And…

“…HFVEN?"

"That is correct. The Haven For Verified Ersatzian Nobles."

It wasn’t the first time I’ve encountered the name, but I couldn’t remember where… or when. Being a full-time time traveller can sometimes really screw with the chronological placement of your memories…

HFVEN, as opposed to HFIL— was an ultimate utopia for the universe's bravest and purest souls… But wasn’t this place supposed to only be a myth?

"I understand you have many questions, but I'm afraid I can't answer all of them yet. I can however, answer the question of most pressing urgency on your mind at the moment."

She nodded to her cloaked sentries, and they helped haul me to my feet (gentler this time).  

"Make haste, Trunks-sama. The one you seek is about to step into the sacred arena for battle. I imagine you would want to converse with him and his brave companion before they do so?"

I blinked, still having some difficulty not getting lost in her enigmatic words and peculiar way of speaking, when she held out a gloved hand and suddenly my clothes were replaced with something new and unfamiliar, but extremely lightweight and comfortable.

"All honourable guests are required to be in Ersatzian uniform at all times outside their resting chambers.” she offered succinctly. “Now, you may go.”

I was grabbed and manoeuvred towards the exit, still very much disorientated. "Where are you taking me?!" I wheezed.

"To your destination," her voice echoed melodiously off the throne room’s bare ivory-coloured walls. "To Gohan Son-sama."

**-x-**

 

After some minutes of adamantly refusing to be escorted like a child to detention, I had finally managed to lose my entourage and was running as fast as I could towards the exit at the end of the hall I had been directed to.

The clothes -or uniform- which I had been made to wear was incredible. It was so light and breathable that it was like I wasn’t wearing anything, and yet my body felt snugly insulated from the elements. The empress' ability to conjure customized clothing reminded me of something, but I was far too uptight to get to the bottom of this to think about anything else. I wanted to prove once and for all if this was just some whacked-out dream.

When the dimness of the hallway was finally supplanted by blinding light, I emerged into a clearing and skid to a halt, blinking rapidly as I tried to take in my surroundings…

People –or rather, beings of different races– as far as the eye could see, were packed into tiered box seats a good twenty feet around what appeared to be an arena set atop a vast circular elevated stage. The colossal dome’s panelled see-through glass walls also served as monitors, and they were lined-up all the way to the sky-high ceiling- flashing battle and player statistics (including other information both relevant and not so relevant) in crystal-clear resolution, starkly offsetting the dense forest and skyline backdrop. It was easily the grandest, most magnificently commanding setting for a martial arts tournament that I’ve ever seen. And that’s saying a lot.

The energy all around was palpable enough to cause an excited tension to build in my gut for some reason just around the corner, but yet to be revealed. I anxiously scanned the unfamiliar crowd milling near the stage and below the bleachers, and finally– after what seemed like hours of straining my neck, my eyes locked onto a hooded figure whose stature was literally a cut above the rest, in all his glorious seven feet and a half. Sure enough, I didn't have to look far from there, and unsurprisingly— standing right next to the towering form, was a hooded figure shorter by a foot (which was by no means short). The moment my eyes had sized him up, I knew…

_I had found the Son Gohan I had been searching for._

Even if most of his body was concealed by a smoky white cloak, I could see that the Ersatzian uniform’s rich textured hues of velvet and scarlet suited him very well. The lush patterned outlines of green and gold seemed to make his deep brown eyes shine more ebulliently than I remembered; and overall, his aura was just exuding so much happiness and vibrancy, that I couldn’t stop the tears of joy flooding my eyes, nor the ecstatic recognition pumping wildly in my heart. My feet were already moving of its own accord, and with a burst of speed I almost instantaneously phased to right beside him; my arms open and outstretched…

_(Mirai Trunks’ quest picks up in upcoming episodes of the “You, Me & Time” series, and in the “Chronicles of the Intergalactic Ersatz Games”.)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _***Bloomer Briefs**_ \- For those unfamiliar with the way I write DBZ, I use Bloomer instead of Bulma because this is her more correct name.  
>   
>  _ ***We would kiss**_ \- This of course, is entirely Trunks' perception  & subject to his interpretation.  
>   
>  _ ***never aggressive or forceful** –_ Piccolo is stern but never coercive or selfish. A lot of instances in the canon-verse demonstrates this (expounded in the related journal entry in my Retroredamancy dA group. Link is below.)  
>   
>  _***Dr.Raichi** _ \- From the DBZ OAV: “Plan to Eradicate the Super Saiyans” (ドラゴンボール 超サイヤ人絶滅計画)(one of my faves of all!).  
>   
>  _ ***Yokatta** _ – Japanese for roughly something along the feel of: “that’s good/a relief”.
> 
> * * *
> 
> ***Bloomer's "Theory of Living Time", HFVEN (Haven For Verified Ersatzian Nobles), The Empress & Asteroid E2 (& the Ersatzians), are MY ORIGINAL (DERIVATIVE) IDEAS, and any likeness to others are purely coincidental.**
> 
> * * *
> 
> I usually enjoy first person POV, but this was trickier than expected. It was a bit of a stretch for me to get into Mirai Trunks’ mind (and then turn it into 2nd person for some parts which just left my brain in knots for the most part). My only defence would be (apart from the fact that I largely have no idea about the technical rules of writing, haha) that this is a mirror/parallel reality Mirai Trunks, not the canon-verse’s, and the divergence is deliberate (so please don’t knock it on the grounds of its discrepancies with the canon, guuuuh).  
>   
> (There wasn't supposed to be a bonus chapter, but I decided to add it, more for myself, because I couldn't take how sad the whole thing was and wanted something a bit lighter, just to alleviate the angst somewhat... (u_u);; Haha. I'm such a pansy.)

**Author's Note:**

> (12/31/2015 - 05/06/2016)
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Story #14: “If I Could Stop The Rain”** & all related Derivative Fanwork/Characters/Concepts & Ideas  
>  ©2015-2017 MariekoWest
> 
> * * *
> 
> **X-posted** : [MewrSaidTheCat](https://www.fanfiction.net/~mewrsaidthecat) {FFnet}
> 
> * * *
> 
> **My Hetalia Works** : [LM_Artless](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LM_Artless) {AO3} / [lovemeartless](https://www.fanfiction.net/~lovemeartless) {FFnet}  
>  **Works Archive:** [M(☆)W: The Asteroid E2-13](http://mariexfolie.blog.fc2.com) {fc2}


End file.
